


Seating Arrangements

by OceanCandy (PaddlingDingo), PaddlingDingo



Series: The Spaces In Between [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Charlton backstory, Friendship, Gen, Past queliot, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24732400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddlingDingo/pseuds/OceanCandy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddlingDingo/pseuds/PaddlingDingo
Summary: Every day that Eliot comes home, he finds Charlton in a different spot, always reading a book. Today he recognizes the book, and it sparks a conversation that brings up difficult memories for them both.
Relationships: Eliot Waugh & Charlton
Series: The Spaces In Between [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746043
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Seating Arrangements

Eliot opened the door to the Physical Kids’ Cottage, coming back from another day of preparing to become a full time professor. Classes would start up in a couple of weeks, and he’d been spending most of his time preparing lesson plans. Brakebills had some standard spells and lessons that would be taught, but since Eliot would be teaching primarily physical magic and magic fundamentals, he wanted to ensure that the classes were well paced and could be adjusted for the class. It was possible that some of the students would learn faster than others, so finding a balance that would keep as many engaged as possible would be a challenge.

He and Margo had, of course, excelled in their studies, and had been usually ahead of others that lacked their confidence. At the time, Eliot had carried his skill with magic as a mark of pride. He still did, but time had taught him that it was just as important to support those for whom magic didn’t come as easily. It was his responsibility now.

He missed the fun parties with Margo, wearing fashionable clothing, being the king of cocktails on Earth and Fillory both. He missed Margo’s snipes and her solid presence, Josh’s way of finding solutions through food, Alice’s brilliance and her friendship, Fen’s ferocity. He would have rather gone on to become a king again, than to be here, wandering through life wondering when they’d come back into his life. If.

Preparing lesson plans in the cottage hadn’t worked well, given that he still shared the space with some students. As such, he’d been working in the professors’ hall. It left him nothing to bring back with him yet, not until they set up a lock on the office in the cottage. He’d thought about moving to the professor’s quarters, but he couldn’t bear to leave the cottage. Not until he felt more settled. Not until his friends in the new Fillory found him. They could always find him here, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else yet.

Looking around, he spotted Charlton on top of the giant pile of cushions made from leftover pants. He hadn’t seen Charlton there before, but today he laid out on his stomach, long legs sprawled out as he balanced on the strapped together pile of cushions with a book in his hand.

It had started out with Charlton on the couch or in a chair, one leg crossed over the other. The longer he lived in the Physical Kids’ Cottage, the more of a disaster his sitting arrangements were. Eliot had started to make bets with himself about how long it would take before Charlton ran out of places to sit differently.

After a few days, Charlton had moved to taking up whole couches. Then Eliot hadn’t found him at all one afternoon, and later found out he’d been curled up in the bookcase nook. An endeavor that Eliot appreciated, considering that long legs didn’t make it easy, but sometimes the mind was that determined to get the body into a space he supposed. He’d probably done more weird things than that.

A week after _that_ , it had been upside down on some of the couches. When he’d asked Charlton what he was doing, he said that it made his head feel interesting. Clearly, having a body again still held some novelty. Charlton had a tireless energy for exploring the world around him and his own reactions to it, an energy that Eliot envied. An energy that one day Charlton would no doubt lose, as everyone did.

Until then, Eliot supposed he’d keep finding him in random positions like this, not giving a shit about how weird any of it looked.

“How can you even be comfortable?” Eliot finally asked, eying the way Charlton’s bare feet were wedged against the carpet as he walked up to stand next to the cushion.

Charlton rolled onto his side, craning his neck to look up at Eliot. “It’s more comfortable down here than turning my head to look up at you, if that helps.”

Eliot chucked. “Point taken.” He dropped down onto the nearest chair. “Still feeling out the chairs?”

“Still feeling out everything.” Charlton closed his book and tucked it up against himself before Eliot could see what he was reading. “I’ve actually never had this much variety in places to sit before. It’s interesting.”

“Sounds about like my life before coming here.” Eliot draped himself over the chair, stretching out his legs. “Reading anything interesting?”

Charlton glanced down at the book. “I was trying to read a psychology book, but then I started reading something else.”

Eliot peered at the book and recognized the edge of the cover. “You’re reading the Fillory books.”

Pulling the book out, he set it next to him on the cushion where Eliot could see. “I wanted to find out what the perception of it was, see if I could feel closer to it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, why hide it?” Eliot shook his head, pushing away the thought of Quentin who had loved those books. He missed Quentin’s tangents about random Fillory things. “If you think you’re going to make me sad, it takes a lot more than a book.”

Charlton regarded Eliot, a focus in his gaze. Eliot was certain that Charlton could see right through his casual defense, and he confirmed it when he spoke. “Your entire pose changed when you saw it.”

“You’ve been reading too much psychology stuff,” Eliot muttered, crossing his arms. “Listen, I’m fine. You’re right, Q loved the books. They remind me of him, and losing him hurt.”

A look crossed Charlton’s face, and for a moment Eliot wondered if he’d misspoke. But Charlton had lived with Eliot’s baggage long enough to already know, or so Eliot hoped.

“I’ve been there,” Charlton said slowly. “I understand the feeling.”

Eliot uncrossed his arms and slid to the floor, stretching his legs out. “Is it something you want to talk about?” Maybe this was finally an opportunity to get Charlton to open up more himself. “You know so much about me but you don’t say much about yourself unless I ask.”

“It’s taking me a bit to get used to the idea of… me. Or whatever it is I am.” Charlton sighed, running his hands over his face.

“And I’ve been there, too.” Eliot regarded Charlton. He missed seeing the Charlton from his head, the one that had become familiar. That had never given up on him. He missed the way Charlton pushed his hair out of his face. He’d caught Charlton reaching up with the same gesture, and seeing his moment of confusion before he realized that his hair was different. “I’m here if you want to talk. You listened to my shit through the time loops and everything since. I’d like to be here for you.”

Charlton sighed. “It’s complicated. It’s part of what happened with the Nameless.” He shifted off the cushion to sit cross legged on the floor across from Eliot. “Do you still want to know?”

Thinking about the Nameless, the Monster, sent a shiver down Eliot’s spine. “Yeah.” He wasn’t sure he did, but he’d come this far, and he wouldn’t turn Charlton away now. Not with the look on his face.

“It started with someone I loved.” Charlton’s eyes grew far away. “I’d been in love before. A girl I almost married when I came of age. Then her brother.”

“Oh I’m sure _that_ went over well.” Maybe he wasn’t the only one here that had made some bad decisions.

“As well as you’d expect.” Charlton stretched his arms out in front of him, then crossed them over his chest. “But there was one that never left me, unlike any of the others. He lived in the same town. His mother was from Loria, but his father was Fillorian. We were together for three years. We lived together through a good deal of it, we curled up in bed every night after making love. We kept each other warm. We laughed, cried, everything.” He smiled sadly. “Our routines became entwined with each other. Except with being with my family, I’d never felt so at home in a place.”

A pang shot through Eliot and he remembered not just that feeling, but also another one. The mention of Loria made him think of Idri. He missed Idri. He leaned forward and watched Charlton’s face as he spoke. He was hard to read, now, with his expressions a strange mix of two people. His eyebrows moved differently, but the gestures were familiar. “Oh. I didn’t realize that…” Eliot winced when he heard himself. “That came out wrong.”

“You didn’t realize how much history I had.” Charlton smiled. “But why would you? I’d forgotten a lot about my life before, and we’ve had more immediate needs than my thousand year old backstory.”

“But it _is_ important,” Eliot insisted. “You’re important, and I’d like to know you. You’ve been here for me, even when I’ve been a shit.”

“You haven’t been a shit, Eliot.”

His face was so earnest and Eliot didn’t know what to do with that information. “What happened to him?”

A guarded look crossed Charlton’s face and Eliot realized for the first time that there were some things about Charlton that would take time to learn, to know. He hid much more than he pretended to.

“It’s a long story,” Charlton admitted. “I lost him when the Nameless took me. It’s not something I’m ready to talk about. And that’s not because of you, it’s just that I’ve never spoken it out loud.”

Of course. The Monster, ruining lives left and right again. Motherfucker. “I’m ready to hear it when you’re ready to talk.”

“Thanks. And I will be, someday. It’s just not today.” Charlton put his hands on his knees, thinking. He stared towards the ceiling and closed his eyes for a moment. “That was a good time in my life.”

“Then tell me about how you met.” A hopefully safer question to ask, and Eliot relaxed when a smile crossed Charlton’s face.

Charlton focused on Eliot and leaned into the cushion behind him. “I used to go around and perform silly tricks. Nothing exciting, just standard illusion magic, but I could usually manage a drink out of it, a meal, maybe a few coins.”

“What do you drink that’s worth getting for free? It’s certainly not alcohol.” The couple of times Charlton had tried alcohol had resulted in him promptly passing the glass to Eliot.

Charlton laughed. Already Eliot could see his shoulders dropping. “There’s a few specific Fillorian ales that I used to drink. I’ve just forgotten what alcohol tastes like. And I was never big on anything stronger than that. I’ve had my share of drunken nights in taverns. Fillory doesn’t have vodka, though.”

“Oh, I noticed.” Eliot rolled his eyes. “Margo and I had to change our entire approach to cocktails there.”

“I’d love to try one if you can make an Earth equivalent.” Charlton nodded. “We met in one of the taverns when I was performing. It happened a bit quickly, he lived nearby and came in for a drink and dinner. A knight, if you can believe it.” He chuckled. “One thing led to another, and we ended up moving in together about six months later. Some of the best years, really. There’s something about waking up next to someone and just knowing they’ve been there all night. I was never worried that I’d have to be alone.”

It did sound nice. It sounded like everything Eliot missed from the mosaic timeline. It sounded like everything Eliot had thought love would be, and that hadn’t been. “I’m sorry you lost him.”

Charlton shrugged. “It’s been a long time, nearly a thousand years. I’ve come to terms with it.”

Eliot wanted to ask how long that had taken, how much longer he could expect to feel an empty place inside of him. An empty place for something that hadn’t even actually happened. He hated that feeling, the feeling that maybe it hadn’t been real. That it had been a dream.

But he had to come up with some question for Charlton, before Charlton was too sharp and asked a question of him. “What was his name?”

Charlton’s face fell and he closed his eyes. “I’ve forgotten. I spent all my effort just remembering his voice and what it felt like to lay next to him.”

Eliot couldn’t imagine what it would be like to forget that, but he also couldn’t image what it was like to spend almost a thousand years where Charlton had. “You don’t remember how he looked?”

He shook his head. “No. It ended up too painful.”

“Is this another thing that you might talk about someday?”

“It is. I promise.” Charlton pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

Eliot recognized it as a defensive gesture and reached out a hand to put it on one of Charlton’s. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“I trust you with anything, Eliot. It’s my own brain I don’t trust yet.” Charlton looked at Eliot’s hand on his. “I know it’s hard with everyone in Fillory. I’m here if you need anything, we’re friends. I think.”

 _Friends._ The voice in his head had gone from a perceived enemy (when he’d thought it was the Monster still in his head), to an internal voice of reason, to a friend, to a tangible stranger, to a tangible friend. “I’m glad to have a friend,” Eliot admitted.

“So am I.” Charlton reached up and touched his own face. “Although I’d feel a lot better if I looked like myself. But this is better than nothing.”

“It’s far better than not being here.” Eliot pulled his hand away and leaned against the chair behind him. “It’s nice to talk to someone who is already aware of the worst of me. Saves me the trouble of having to tell you the worst things.”

“I’ve forgotten a lot,” Charlton admitted. “You might have to tell me some of it again.”

“Oh what good is an imaginary friend that doesn’t know everything already?” Eliot smiled. It felt good to smile. It felt good to talk to someone.

“Well, it’s certainly not for making coffee.”

“Your coffee is pretty terrible.” Eliot got to his feet. “On that note, I’m going to make some coffee. Want some? Cream and sugar?”

“Yes. All of it. And thanks.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Eliot touched Charlton’s shoulder as he headed to the kitchen to make some coffee.

It didn’t fill the hole in his heart from being left on Earth while the others moved on to the new Fillory, but he felt the loneliness and isolation lift a little. Like cracking open a heavy curtain on a sunny day, a room wasn’t filled with only darkness. And for that, Eliot was grateful.

He moved into the kitchen, made the coffee, and started back towards the living room. Next to the cushion, Charlton’s head rested on his knees. His body shook with sobs. He’d never seen Charlton break down before.

Walking to a table, he set the coffee down and knelt down next to Charlton, putting an arm around his shoulder. He wondered if Charlton had ever had the chance to grieve. Life did that sometimes.

“I remembered that he had green eyes,” Charlton managed, raising his head. A few tears ran down his face, not as badly as Eliot had feared. Charlton brushed them aside. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve never actually cried for him.”

“I guess we’re both good at eating our feelings.” Eliot sighed, a pain forming in his chest. He squeezed Charlton’s shoulder. “I cry for Q sometimes, too. But you know that.” He tapped the cover of the book. “Let me know when you’ve read it, and what you think. As an actual Fillorian, I’m sure you’ll find a lot of bullshit, but I was a king of Fillory. Maybe we can miss it together.”

Charlton nodded. “I’d like that.” He moved out from under Eliot’s arm to get the cups of coffee. He handed Eliot’s to him and they sat in silence, two friends drinking coffee with their memories.


End file.
